


Midnight City

by AliceKa



Category: Open Heart (Visual Novel)
Genre: Drama, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2019-12-17
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:21:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21837406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AliceKa/pseuds/AliceKa
Summary: During the National Medical Symposium in Miami, Ethan meets the one person he has been missing for years.
Relationships: Ethan Ramsey/Main Character (Open Heart)
Kudos: 15





	Midnight City

**Author's Note:**

> Open Heart was such a good book that I thought I should take a shot with this. I apologize for mistakes, English is not my first language. I hope to continue. Thanks for reading.

There were very few things Ethan Ramsey despised more than medical conferences. Granted, he could not think of any others as he made his way through the crowd.

The conferences per se were never the issue. He rather enjoyed submerging himself into the most innovative technology and breakthroughs in the medical field, and the yearly National Medical Symposium in Miami happened to be an excellent opportunity for that. Every few years he would sit one out and encourage other attendings and residents to take his place instead, evidently not out of the goodness of his heart. This year, however, Naveen insisted that Ethan attended.

_Walking down memory lane,_ he humorlessly chuckled to himself. He was not particularly fond of dwelling in the past and the event ignited nothing but nostalgia in him. The last time he was here, he had brought _her_ along.

Dr. Eleanor Bennett.

She had left shortly after earning the spot in his elite diagnostic team. Over two years had come and gone and the young doctor still held a place in his subconscious, resurging more often than not when he drank. Sometimes he drank because she hunted his memories, sometimes it was the other way around. He preferred not thinking about her, as impossible as it seemed to stop his thoughts from going in that direction.

No, he was not fond of dwelling at all.

Someone bumped into him, right on cue, as if to remind him why these events were _oh_ -s _o_ -irritating. Medical conventions, but above all the social gatherings afterwards, were filled with the most pretentious, obnoxious, big pharma leeches that he could possibly fathom.

Being a physician of his _status_ came not only with many benefits but also a few exasperating duties such as the occasional, although arguably still too often for his taste, interaction with representatives of the pharmaceutical world. As much as he wished to avoid the lot entirely, he understood the unspoken guidelines that weighted on his shoulders. It was not, after all, his first rodeo.

Throughout the night he had exercised the minimum requirement of expected socializing. He would not invest one more ounce of effort on such an insufferable crowd. As a matter of fact, he would not invest his time on any crowd. He lacked the patience, and quite frankly, the interest.

While the day had been fully booked with seminars and whatnot, the evening was more elegantly embellished with a Casino Royal theme. There were game areas scattered throughout the outdoor hotel venue, countless bodies in formal attire roaming around. An illuminated pool adorned the center. The night breeze was pleasingly cool for Florida weather, nonetheless too warm for him, carrying the voice and laughter of hundreds of guests enjoying themselves. Or at least pretending to be.

A few hours passed before he felt his already limited tolerance slipping as he engaged in conversation with some Panacea Labs agents. His eyes were dangerously starting to twitch, the grip on his glass tightening. Harper, who was at his side at the time, noticed his failed attempts to maintain his composure and politely asked him to get her a drink.

After Naveen had replaced her as Chief of Medicine, Ethan vowed to keep their relationship exclusively professional. Their on- and off romance was brought to an end due to her promotion, and now that the obstacle had been taken care of, he hoped that Harper did not try to rekindle something that was not there.

That being said, he was grateful that Harper could see through him in that instant. Never had an escape route come at a better time.

He maneuvered his way through the multitude, eventually reaching the bar. Immediately after sitting, his tensed shoulders loosened up, a long sigh emptying his body of air. The location of the bar contributed to his relaxation, closer to the live band and further away from the loud gaming tables.

The music elevated him, if for a mere second, his environment dissipating. He closed his eyes as his fingers rhythmically tapped the counter to the calming tune. Somehow the distant conversations had mixed with the instruments, creating a captivating melody.

Had it been his choice, he would have listened to the performance the entire night. Someone, however, decided to interrupt his plans.

"Sitting alone at the bar, I see," a voice teased behind him, "It's almost as if you did not enjoy these _marvelous_ events."  
  
Without caring to turn, he countered, "Most people would take that as a clear indication that I–," from the corner of his eye, he caught sight of the source of the sarcastic voice and, unable to restrain himself, did a double take.

The air was knocked out of his lungs, his eyes unable to blink. He wondered then if he could have been having a cardiac arrest due to the unbearable heat, because the way his heart wildly somersaulted in his chest could not have possibly been _her_ doing.

Eleanor.  
  
The raven-haired woman took the seat next to him, his unwavering blue eyes following her silhouette, unable to create one coherent sentence. She wore a navy gown, the dark shade complementing her porcelain skin. It was adorned with rhinestones of the same tones, which dropped down to the floor along with the fabric, a more see-through satin cape rested against her back. Once on the bar stool, she crossed her legs, causing the slit of the dress to reveal the length of her exposed skin.  
  
As if on autopilot, he finished his sentence with a gulp, his words barely registering in his head, "—do not wish to be disturbed."  
  
Hoping that the former intern had not noticed his lengthy stare, Ethan forced himself to advert his eyes in embarrassment. Much to his dismay, mediocre precautions miscalculated, her expression hinted she had been aware of his gaze.  
  
She raised an eyebrow, one corner of her mouth lifting playfully, "I hardly think that hiding out here is necessary. You might be missing out."  
  
A sardonic scoff escaped his lips at her comment, "Yet here you are."

"Ah. Yet here I am," she nodded at his logic with a soft chuckle, "But I am not alone, am I?"

Her words echoed between them, leaving a trail of uncertainty and sourness behind. The times _the_ Ethan Ramsey was rendered speechless were scarce, one hand enough to count them. This was one of them.

After more than two years, here she was.

The intern that had been there for him during one of the most difficult times of his life.

The intern that had stuck by his side even when he tried to push her away.

The intern that he had grown to care for. Much more than that.

The intern that had left everything behind.

The intern that was probably not _that_ intern anymore. She was not an intern at all.

The younger physician signaled to the barman, who was tending a party at the other end of the bar and caught his attention. As the man headed in their direction, she eyed Ethan for a moment, undoubtedly studying her companion before addressing the bartender.

The older man was observing her as well. Her once long hair now reached her shoulders, he noticed. The ombré tips she carried, transitioning her dark locks to a wine shade, were gone. He continued stumbling upon changes in her appearance that further proved that she was not the same person he had once known.

It was only natural.  
  
"Two glasses of scotch, neat," it was his time to raise his eyebrows in surprise at her choice of drink.  
  
"Not on the rocks?" He recalled one of their first conversations back during her first year of residency. Eleanor bit her lower lip, honey colored eyes softening the longer she looked at him. He suddenly felt like a teenager.

_Pull yourself together, Ramsey._  
  
"I sincerely doubt that is unknown information to a scotch-man such as yourself," Eleanor stated matter-of-factly. A spark illuminating her expression at the ghost of a memory.

There was something comforting in her teasing. He could not quite pinpoint why that was. Maybe it bewitched him into believing that time had not passed at all.

They would be fools to think that.

Undoubtedly, she had changed. A part of him wondered if her feelings also had. Every so often he would be confident that he had gotten over her, their affair being only short lived. He had to, after all. Yet tonight he felt like he did the first time he had kissed her, in this very same building.

_Fuck._ He groaned internally, his fists clenching, his jaw clenching.

The bartender slid two glasses in their direction. Both of them immediately brought them to their lips, Ethan downing the liquid in one sip. If he did not think he needed it before, now it was out of the question.

“What are you doing here?” he did not intend to sound as annoyed as he did.

Truthfully, he did not know how to approach her, years of suppressed confrontations hatching exponentially within him. Anger was not an emotion he was used to when it came to her. He did not ask to deal with this emotional baggage tonight, or any night. She had left years ago, given up any right she had to show up and pretend she cared. The same applied to him.

But he did care, and the fact frustrated him.

Setting the glass on the counter, her hands fidgeted. She opened and closed her mouth repeatedly, carefully selecting her words, "Dr. Banerji informed me you would be here."

“That is not an answer.”

“I don’t have a better answer.”

“How enlightening,” the sudden venom in his words was not lost on her.

The hurt in her eyes transferred to her voice, becoming a whisper as it went on, “I just wanted to see you. That is all.”

He did not acknowledge her comment, instead gesturing to the bartender with two lifted fingers. Soon after, there were two refilled glasses in front on them. Neither of them spoke a word for some time, refusing to look at the other, drowning on the burning alcohol sensation.

Her voice followed a sigh, her fingers pinching the bridge of her nose, “I get it. You are angry and I don’t expect–”

“Goodnight Dr. Bennett,” he cut her short, ending their conversation without bothering to give her so much of a glance. Eleanor bowed her head in defeat, removing herself from the stool. Before leaving for good, she stopped in front of the older diagnostician, whose eyes remained elsewhere.

“I was angry, too, for a while,” her tone was endearingly shy, meant for his ears only. She hesitated before taking his hand for a moment, expecting him to pull back but shockingly to both, he did not, “Just never at you.”

She placed her lips on his cheek and a light object on his palm, closing his grip after she released his hold.

Ethan looked down as she disappeared into the multitude, his breath catching in his throat. Her room key-card.

He could have given it back to her. He should have given it back to her. Hell, he could have thrown it away.

Against his better judgement, he kept it. _Fuck indeed._


End file.
